


Saving Time

by Iverna



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iverna/pseuds/Iverna
Summary: Set at some point before Hoth, in which Han is an unexpected ally and Leia finds that diplomacy is not the only way to get what you want.





	Saving Time

Each base commander has his or her own way of handling personnel disputes. Some take Leia’s side automatically. Some get into yelling matches, never a good idea. Some, like Rieekan, handle it all with a wry smile and a genuine concern that even Han Solo can’t argue with.

General Kyvore, it seems, has gone for sarcasm. Leia hears him as she walks towards the briefing room; Han, evidently, has got there ahead of her for once.

“If you and the princess insist on this kind of lovers’ tiff—”

Leia’s heart sinks, then hammers back up against her ribs as if annoyed at its own reaction. The last thing she needs is more of these stupid comments and rumours, especially from a base commander. She can just about imagine Solo’s insufferable smirk—

“It’s not a lovers’ tiff,” Han growls, and the tone is so unexpected that Leia stops short. “We had a difference of opinion on strategy. It happens.”

“Right.” Kyvore doesn’t sound convinced.

Leia can all but hear Han’s fake-casual shrug when he speaks again. “And if you’re planning on going ahead with this mission as is, you and me are gonna have a _lovers’ tiff_ about it, too.”

Uh oh. Leia gives herself a shake, and resumes walking, trying to make her feet fall a little harder, louder, as she reaches the open door.

She comes up short as she gets her first look inside the room. Han is on his feet, as she knew he would be, facing Kyvore across the table. And there’s someone else in here: Commander Pline, a dark-haired woman in her thirties, who flashes Leia a smile that looks almost apologetic.

“General,” Leia says. “Commander. Apologies for the delay.”

“Your Highness.” Kyvore inclines his head. “Please, sit.”

Han pushes his vacated chair at Leia and strides over to collect another one from behind Kyvore’s desk. He scoots it carelessly over beside her and slouches onto it, arms crossed.

Leia ignores him as best she can, and focuses on the general. “What’s going on?”

“I’d like to discuss a few alterations to the mission,” Kyvore says. “Given the circumstances, I feel it’s best to give Commander Pline the command, while you remain here in an advisory capacity.”

“What?” Leia stares at him. “What circumstances?”

“The security around the spaceport, for one thing,” Kyvore says. “It’ll be hard to get in there. I don’t like risking you.”

“General,” she says. “With all due respect to the commander, I should be the one going down there. I’ve taken risks like that before, and it’s worth it. I know these people. I need to be the one to talk to them.”

From the look on Pline’s face, she agrees. Leia doesn’t like playing the princess card, but the fact is that very few other Rebels have had the kind of diplomatic training she has.

“Hence the advisory role,” Kyvore says. “There’s no need for you to risk your neck, your Highness.”

Leia has heard all of this before. Every now and again, she comes across an officer who thinks that the princess shouldn’t head into battle. She suppresses a brief flash of annoyance with herself that she didn’t pick up on it with Kyvore before now. If she had, she could have sorted it out before it came to this. “I work better on the ground, general. By all means, send Commander Pline with me if you think it’s necessary, but this is my mission.”

“I’m sorry, Princess, but it isn’t,” Kyvore says apologetically. “I can’t condone—”

“Okay, let’s save some time,” Han cuts in. He looks thoroughly annoyed, impatience radiating from him to the point where Leia swears she can feel it. “She’s going. You know it, we all know it. The only question is how much you’re gonna argue about it beforehand.”

Kyvore’s face darkens. “Solo, this is a command decision, and therefore none of your business.”

Han looks at Leia. She looks back, grateful for the unexpected back-up, but not at all sure that it’ll help. Han has a lot of good qualities, but diplomacy is not one of them.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have all that many options. She can’t afford a row with the base commander, especially not in front of the woman who’s taking over her role. She can’t really afford to back down, either, because this mission is important and she knows, she just knows, that if she doesn’t go, it won’t succeed.

Han’s mouth quirks, just a little. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll make it easy for you. Either she goes, or I don’t.”

Evidently, Kyvore doesn’t know Han very well, because that takes him by surprise. “What?”

“Either you put her in charge of this mission, or you find another pilot,” Han says with a shrug.

“You have your orders, captain,” Kyvore says, his brows drawing together. “You don’t get to make demands—”

“What’re you gonna do, kick me out?” Han asks. “Either way, you’ll have to find a new pilot. One who knows how to evade spaceport security, and has a ship that’s equipped to smuggle in sensitive cargo, and can shoot his way out if needed. Awful lot of boxes to tick in the, what, twenty hours you’ve got until we’re supposed to leave?”

Kyvore gapes at him. Then turns to Leia, as if in appeal. She shrugs. “Like I said, I’m willing to take the risk. I’ve put a lot of groundwork into this mission, general. I want to see it through.”

Kyvore grumbles some more, and it’s clear that he doesn’t like it and considers Han barely a step above a traitor, but he gives in. Leia cajoles and reassures him as best she can, so that by the time they leave the briefing room, he’s stopped glowering, and is half-convinced that this was the idea all along.

“Thanks,” Leia tells Han as they walk back across the muddy path that leads to the mess hall.

He shrugs. “Just didn’t want that Pline woman telling me how to fly my ship.”

She wants to argue, because she knows he’s lying—Pline would hardly be the most problematic Rebel passenger he’s ever had, and for all his irreverence, he doesn’t make a habit of going head to head with his commanding officer like that. But he’s looking almost cheerful, and Leia is feeling relieved that the mission has been saved, and really, there’s no point in arguing.

And he did just say he doesn’t mind _her_ telling him what to do. Kind of.

“Right,” she says. “Well, thank you all the same.”

He smirks down at her. “Sure, sweetheart. Anytime.”


End file.
